


The Third

by Wyle23



Category: Naruto, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Adventure, Gen, Infiltration, POV Third Person Limited, big bad Nagato, false enforcer of The Light
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 13:56:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7979131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wyle23/pseuds/Wyle23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Given a second chance at life, but literally dropped into a strange new world of heroes and villains, what path shall the Third Six Paths choose?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There was nothing for as far as his ringed gaze could see. Just a pitch black that seemed infinite. Apparently he was standing, though, a solidness below his feet that matched his front: nothing.

So there he stood, eyes closing in resigned acceptance of his fate. If this were his eternity – to forever wander in darkness, alone – then so be it. No form of dispute would leave his person. Instead, Nagato reflected.

And God help him, his thoughts could not wander to anything but the countless mistakes that were made since his second tragic run-in with the pain that festered in the world of ninja. So many sacrifices, so many deaths, all ironically given and taken in the name of bringing peace.

' _God of Peace,_ ' Nagato thought with disgust, a sneer taking over his expression. He was no such thing. The very opposite in fact. Not a single benefit came from his actions. Even his last one, though being his single right decision in so long, had been necessitated by his supposed just slaughtering.

A coldness settled over his body, becoming ever-more encompassing as his thoughts continued their downward spiral. He knew well what it was.

Shame. For his failure to protect his precious people. For his departure from the path he'd been trekking. For the lives lost in his radical vision for the future.

Nagato was well aware of the water running from his ringed eyes, was even more conscious to the vicious tugs pulling at his chest. With each new thought, Nagato's guilt steadily rose, until he openly sobbed, right hand pushing so fiercely against his eyes, teeth grinding as he hopelessly tried to stifle the overwhelming emotions.

They would not be squelched.

Somehow his mind managed to continue the train of thought, uncaring of the Uzumaki's current state. It's new focus, however, trumped all others beyond measure.

Before it could be thought upon, though, his gaze picked up a shift in the darkness. Nagato opened them further, watching the setting through teary eyes as it began to brighten. The ground, he noted, was still just as bottomless a pit as before, though eventually there were rays of light mixed in there. Following came a… crackling. A fire?

Light as it was, he still heard the chuckle emanate from his rear. And though it may have not been much, recognition came all the same. So frozen to the spot was he that he couldn't even breathe. That same pain in his chest returned, but now so excruciating. A shaky breath was taken as his feet gave in before the monumental burn of shame running rampant through each and every piece of his being. To his knees he went, eyes unable to stop their overflowing guilt's trails as he miraculously braced a hand to the floor.

He could see his master upon the slab of rock once more, impaled so gruesomely with those horrendous black rods. Could remember his brutal finish of him, sending the man to a bloody death at the bottom of a lake. The memory only served to worsen his gasps for air through his pathetic breakdown, so raw were the emotions.

So much had been given to him by his master. Only for Nagato to strike him down in cold blood in return. His very own student.

"Nagato..." his near-father called to him, voice somber, yet… cracking?

He was worth something to him still. Now it was a stab. He couldn't even see the pit.

The words came out by force. No matter anything, he owed him this.

"I'm sorry."

It could not stop flowing. The words just wouldn't stop. By the fourth, he'd begun pathetically yelling it, his voice telling every sign of his congestion, the following containing the addition of "so". Before this man, he was humbled by even being within proximity.

A strong tug and intense embrace were felt. Abrupt interrupted blankness, unfortunately, followed.


	2. Chapter 2

A constant, harsh wind was batting against his face, clothing flapping incessantly during his apparent descent. His eyes opened, narrow slits being the best manageable against the assaulting natural resistance. Despite this, the impressive distance from the ground had them widening unintentionally, momentarily stinging his ringed orbs as a wetness formed.

Swiftly judging that there was a ways to go whilst exiting one fluffy white cloud to the sight of yet another, Nagato began to register a few… oddities.

In some unexplainable way, he was alive. Impossible as it was, the breaths being inhaled to his lungs and the chakra he felt coursing within his body, though mysteriously lower than normal, were proof of that very impossibility.

All of his senses were working perfectly, sight taking in the still-rapidly-flapping attire of his. The garb's appearance brought a thoughtful look to Nagato's demeanor. Upon him were the clothes of the old Akatsuki. Yahiko's Akatsuki. A thin, somewhat wan smile formed at the view, better times coming to mind. Ones when he felt whole.

Curious, Nagato brought a hand up to his forehead protector, fingering the indentations upon the metal plate, having his suspicion confirmed. No slash.

Suddenly twisting over, the redhead dimly registered its trailing as the largest abnormality took root within his mind.

' _That was all too real_ ,' Nagato thought with conviction, eyebrows scrunched together as he pondered at the encounter with his master. Even now, warmth faded from Jiraiya-sensei's points of contact during the tight embrace.

Slowly, he allowed a small smile to form. His master… had forgiven him. Somehow, some way, his near father figure had found it in himself to forgive the unforgivable. Nagato let his orbs shut, just enjoying the free fall for a few moments.

' _Thank you, sensei._ '

Inhaling deeply, the ninja deftly readjusted himself back around, eyes narrowed at his dropping point in determination. Not a thing obscured his ringed wince as the jumble of colors slowly became more distinct shapes, a body of water quickly becoming distinguishable, as well as a now-slim structure that appeared to be above it.

Nagato sharpened his descent, speed increasing alongside the wind's roar as the construct was revealed to be a remarkable bridge spanning the vast ocean to a rather impressively sized city, one that housed buildings rivaling the heights of even Ame's. However, head-tilt-inducing as the sights were – not to mention those multi-colored things moving in rows on the bridge – his altitude was becoming a rather pressing issue, now rapidly approaching the sea's vast surface whilst becoming level with the long construct's pinnacle.

' **Tendo...'**

His fall began to slow, sleeves calming in their constant movement with the rest of the garb, turning more fluid as Nagato neared the ocean below. He flipped himself upright, descending calmly to the water until his feet soundlessly touched its surface. As his body followed the water's ebb, Nagato turned to regard the bridge, head turned upwards as he took in the sight of its coverage and size, enjoying the new perspective.

From his distance, he could make out a couple of the rows of those objects moving a singular direction, a whole rainbow of colors zipping by before his gaze. Focusing, Nagato was able to make out the objects more, being of metal origins with rotating wheels – mechanical in nature. They varied in size and were a strange sight, but it was the passengers within that held his gaze in the direction. Confusion spread throughout Nagato at the absence within them all: chakra.

'...'

For a minute longer his ringed orbs scanned for the energy, none to be seen. Two blinks passed before he shifted to regard the city on the other end. The immensity of it was now more apparent, Nagato taking in the long expanse of buildings – from the closer smaller districts to the further… taller one.

Light, watery steps were taken in its direction.

So far, not a thing was making sense. Not this location, not chakra's so-far absence, not his living, _nothing_. As such, the large city was a sight for sore eyes, for if there was one thing it offered a ninja of his calibre, it was information; and if the size of it was any indication, there would be plenty to be had.

The shinobi's pace heightened, continuing until all below the lower thigh became a blur, the surface's splashing evening out to a smooth indentation to the sea's surface. In no time, a beach came into view, being pleasantly populated at the present. In the next few seconds, he was upon it, sand kicking up high in his sprint's wake and appropriately startling the civilians.

Clearing the sandy setting, Nagato began to immediately jump from building to building at incredible speed, so as to avoid pedestrian contact. He was in a neighborhood of sorts, houses being the predominant buildings surrounding him, those strange machines at many of their fronts. Green grass and trees littered the area, as well as large streets and sidewalks, sometimes coming across larger buildings with names suggesting them being markets of sorts or some apparent service.

He focused chakra to his soles for the coming jump, nearing the first of the large city's buildings. Using a thick tree branch, Nagato leapt a great distance, clearing many stories he was sure, and landed gently on one of the four concrete sides of it, a spanning window taking up a centered large portion of the building's faces. He was within the first few steps of his continued sprint when his orbs chanced a glance to his reflection.

Nagato's eyes widened as he stumbled in his slowing velocity, staring at his so much younger features. He was the spitting image of his old self. Vaguely he was aware of this explaining his lowered chakra pool, but the realization was unfocused in favor of one specific memory whilst he stared at his reflection, still maintaining a brisk sprint.

The last time he was this way…

' _Yahiko,_ ' the redhead's best friend's dying smile, filled with belief, flashed in his memory as the name was thought.

Reaching the top, Nagato came to a stop at the building's opposite end, the grand city's scale taking his focus for a good moment, eyes going from sad to wide and somewhat perplexed. The sun shone from behind, it seeming to be later in afternoon, covering most of the tall buildings' upper portions in the wake of the abundant clouds. The tall constructs were of plentiful shapes and sizes, a particularly odd one further back, its pointed top reaching higher than all others.

Down below, the streets were considerably more populated with the civilian operated vehicles, the sidewalks mirroring this change with the number of people upon them. Greenery was considerably more sparse, Nagato noted, gray and whites being the dominant colors now, alongside the varying signs of just as diverse colors. Adorning some of said signs were even the faces of people unknown to him. Advertisements, he ventured to guess, seeing the promotional wordings and… number to call. A brow was raised at the implication.

However, reconnaissance was in dire need, the shinobi bringing his hands through a set of signs, ending on the snake seal.

" **Ukojizai no Jutsu.** "

The clouds overhead began to rapidly take on a darker shade, spreading to the surrounding clouds for a number of miles – though never coming close to encompassing the city's entirety. Shortly it began to drizzle, before an all-out storm poured to all below, the rain revealing countless people in the area, even vaguely registering the movement of those wheeled transports.

No chakra. Nagato frowned thoughtfully whilst the rain further soaked his hair, strands sticking as he stared down at the lively city. Civilians were now sparse upon the walkways, having taken refuge from the sudden rain. This made two entities increasingly noticeable; they moved considerably faster and seemed to be using a similar means of travel: buildings-tops.

Unimpressive as their speed was, the two located more inward to the city mass would be best avoided. The couple could very well be authoritative figures of the city, and confrontation of any sort was unwise at this time. Nagato turned toward the outer sections of the large city, running to the end of his building and leaping off the edge, bringing the storm's seal back up to better encompass his destination whilst he descended. The rain shifted with the storm's migration, him shortly and seamlessly landing upon a smaller building with a loud clap of his boots, headfirst in his clearing of its top and ascent to another.

So far it was apparent that he was on Earth. People existed, the animals were the same so far, and plant-life seemed convincingly unchanged. Civilization was a thing, though this location and its… well, _everything_ , didn't hold any resemblance to anything existing in the Elemental Nations, same as the bridge leading here. It was a godsend that the language was one parallel. And it was this similarity that Nagato planned to exploit fully, currently seeking and hoping to find a public library.

After a few minutes of searching, the shinobi dropped the snake seal, storm in place, centered around a further section of the outer city lying in his path. Block after block went by, some names recurring as Nagato went, an eerie feeling building within. Though the rain brought a sense of familiarity, their cool touches did not extinguish the unrest his unfamiliar surroundings brought forth, frown unchanging whilst his rippled orbs continued their surveying movements.

Not long passed before he found his objective.

* * *

That uncanny feeling intensified the moment he sighted a world map in his henged search, having swiftly ended his brief appreciation of the ease of infiltration. Earth, yes, but his own it most definitely was not. Its features were reminiscent of his location, though more along the lines of completely mind-boggling; for a good while he'd taken in a multitude of unfamiliar names upon the sea of land cut-outs, before having his fill and searching out the building's historical section. This had led to the eventual discovery of three key groups of current: The Justice League, a smaller branch of younger so-called "heroes" belonging to the former, and something referred to as "The Light".

A rather fair amount of intel had been gathered on the first two, the third being the antipode in that regard. Mentions of the criminal organization were there, but none of those few articles ever had anything of real substance.

By the time he'd left the public establishment into the still-raining night, Nagato's head was a pounding mess from the information overload acquired from his lengthy visit, quickly seeking a peaceful location after visiting hours ended to sift through it all. Thankfully, it was not long that he spent walking before he came upon a metal bench sheltered by a mostly-glass structure with a metallic base. Near it was a green sign headed with the word "bus stop", numbers descending down it next to what he now knew to be a representation of the vehicle. It being late, not to mention raining, the streets were scarcely populated, making for a pleasant silence in the rain.

Fortunately, the seat was near enough the protecting structure that he could lean back to rest his head against the cool glass, closing his eyes against the slight relief and enjoying the storm's cool winds whilst they rustled surrounding foliage. A world of heroes and villains – literally – of all things. To make things that much more mystifying, extraterrestrials were common-place, though their appearances far from moved him; Akatsuki's eventual members prepared him for nearly any sight.

Intangibility could prove to be a rather annoying capability to face, as well as telepathy and magic. Though he supposed he'd learn somewhere down the line. Simply put, there wasn't even the slightest chance these men _or_ children would ever wish to work with someone having _his_ past.

' _Not with that no-kill policy,_ ' thought Nagato wryly, it vaguely showing on his false features. The best he could do was the action as an absolute last resort. The fact was that people with his occupation tended to have people die within their vicinity, and he in particular this held true for.

' _Friends and foe alike...'_ The thought stung. Not one of his family had he been able to save, and one even died by his own hand. Possibly two.

And that concluded any thought of alliance with groups holding themselves to morals.

' _The Light, however,_ ' Nagato thought, opening his eyes to look at nothing in view, ' _are very likely a different story.'_ If the people involved in that group were as bad as Nagato figured them to be, even managing to keep themselves mostly out of the papers, then he figured them to be a group bearing notoriety of similarity to Akatsuki in his world. And The Light would have interest in him and his… talents. He'd have to show them secondhand, but their attention would be gained. Eventually.

Unfocused narrow eyes adorned his features as he thought on who best to go to for information. It would have to be a high ranking member. One immediately came to him, even earning an amused scoff at the man's photos within those particular articles. Literature that, thankfully, led to his finding of this location: Star City, of heroes Green Arrow, Black Canary, and Red Arrow. Whoever those earlier two travelers of significance were, he was fairly certain it was of those three, considering the lack of panic surrounding them. However, none of those protectors was of major standing in the heroic group.

Deciding that there was no time like the present, the henged teen moved to stand, releasing the disguise. The action somewhat alleviated his head's pain, giving way to the notion that his younger body was not able to handle too prolonged use of both jutsu simultaneously. Not yet anyways. However, the storm would have to stay for his journey. There would be many heroes along the way to watch for, and he'd prefer to not be spotted in his travels.

Northward he looked, starting his sprint down a series of roads, since they were practically dead at the hour; after some miles into this, a swift eastward pivot would be stuck to for a good long distance. Nagato brought the snake seal back up before he reached a steady higher speed, the plentiful droplets shifting in trajectory a second time.

* * *

The journey had been long, and far from uneventful. Many times over, though the unfamiliar distances varied in their spanning, a stand-out entity or group would pop up; the fliers were of more concern, but cover was never a problem. It was doubtful that they were all of the heroic standpoint, having also gathered a decent amount of information of most of this similar yet so different world's villains. As well as sensed the commotion surrounding some of them.

All had been avoided amidst his travels. And he was sure to avoid Metropolis. No such confrontations were wanted along the way by the shinobi.

However, aside from those somewhat plentiful divergences in course, his route had been pretty straightforward, though a bit of a distance. Nagato was glad this founding Justice League member had made finding him so easy, the redhead staring upon the brightly garbed man, speaking to some blonde woman in front of a camera. Taking shelter under a building's outer extending cover were the trio, the still-going jutsu gliding cleanly down his cloak's surface whilst he watched them from a moderately distanced rooftop.

Rinnegan watching the reporter and hero's pleasant interview, Nagato prepared to test a hypothesis. Moving up a few buildings, the shinobi got within range for his jutsu, the speedster having just begun to lean on a support beam of the covering building's; he seemed quite into the conversation, eyes never leaving the reporter's.

' _Public and careless_ ,' the ninja thought with a frown, now on a building ledge with his right sleeve-covered arm completely outstretch towards the hero.

" **Banshō Ten'in.** "

The Flash's eyes immediately turned wide, the pull starting before even the civilians' expressions could change. Thrust towards him as he was, Nagato lifting his other arm to ready a black receiver from the sleeve's hidden depths, target wincing at the sight and turning his head back in fearful preparation as Nagato firmly grasped and broke off a piece with a twist of the wrist... The rod's fleshy pierce echoed with the man's interrupted cry – joined by undisturbed ones of the news crew and nearby witnesses alike – as his throat was blocked by the casting hand's grip. Held helplessly for all to see, Nagato eyed the man with a stoic stare, grim satisfaction coming forth from a theory proven correct: an ambush firstly removing the Founder's traction would lead to quick and clean capture.

Quickly beginning to sweep the onlookers for any outliers, one of immediate attention within his periphery brought the prompt shift of his ringed orbs at her person. She tried to hide it, the civilian really did. This news reporter. To her eyes it may have seemed as though she'd dropped that arm in time, but she could never dream of moving beyond his rinnegan's comprehension.

Though it really mattered little, he supposed, for even though that seemed to come to her like instinct, her eyes were the only amongst the onlookers' to never leave his victim's person. They were glued to The Flash. Worry seemed to be etched within, contrasting the body's calm.

' _Interesting,_ ' thought Nagato, quickly following with ' _ **Shuradō** ,' _before the return of his unwavering purple gaze to the hero at hand, quickly facing them parallel to the building-side whilst forming another rod. Just as quickly, his other shoulder was impaled by a chakra receiver, Nagato tilting his head in the slightest to focus on her very telling muttering of what was probably the man's real name. Regardless, he couldn't care less about that part of the revelation, ignoring the hero's unsuppressed grimace against the straining pain whilst his latex-covered throat released a guttural groan, eyes painfully wide as he seemed to note his body's lack of cooperation.

On an equally important note, two would be more than enough, it felt, turning and taking off whilst influencing The Flash's movements to have him mirror his travel direction; Nagato wasted no time to force the man into removing all miscellaneous gear on his person during their speedy trek amongst the city, ignoring the man's pained monochrome orbs whilst he quite futilely attempted to resist the foreign influence. An earpiece seemed to be all he had on his person, the device being plucked by the speedster's very own fingers as they sped off together, concern clearly etched on the hero's masked face.

It was somewhat irking that the ambush's revelation might be a little more vicarious than initially hoped, since the recorder had dropped said device a few seconds into the first impalement; but faster the ninja went, making the fully capable hero keep up, ignoring the man's singular stare from beside him whilst maintaining a detached focus on the storm's detections in their haste. Movement from far north and south came by air, the latter the quicker of the two – by a large margin – Nagato increasing the storm's power to a storming ferocity with both a quick raising of the snake seal and forced turning of the hero's head, pumping a decent amount of chakra into the former action.

Thinking quickly, Nagato took the lead, them darting within a sizable multi-story parking lot building. His halting was sudden, feet skidding into the hard surface in the too abrupt deceleration before a sharp mid-air twist joined by an uplifted leg greeted the fast-approaching hero's gut, rocketing the man into a concrete support beam with a booming crack that sent spanning veins of cracks in all directions. Amidst The Flash's crumbling to the ground alongside trailing rubble, Nagato deftly dropped down into a crouch upon landfall, hands flat on the ground with a quickly muttered " **Kuchiyose no Jutsu.** " Two sizable clouds of smoke formed, the larger outside the parking building while the smaller took place before Nagato. Running through the clearing cloud of his chameleon's summoning with hero under-arm, it wasn't long before they rested within the lizard's jaws, the beast cloaking and going before either summons' mists cleared, the hulking bird leaving its own in the same instance along with a mighty caw.

Towards the Southeast went the bird. East caught up, the forces clashing in a brief quarrel as North's managed to speed even more incredibly, bringing the bird to the ground swiftly upon arrival. But West went the green lizard, cloaked upon the rapidly passing surroundings before the two back-ups realized their folly.

* * *

It was amazing how fast that Kyptonian could move, in mid-air no less. What was displayed during the Green Lantern's admittedly persistent trailing had been beyond even the rinnegan's comprehension. Fortunately, the two seemed to have been quite ruffled in their angry pursuit, Nagato's giant gray bird piercing the winds with its large yellow beak whilst it maneuvered around sizable virescent beams passing by from the green hero. Despite the summon's size, its speed was greater than his own, so when the brief interlude in their paths was coming to an end, that mix of blue and red had blurred straight into the side of the sight-sharing familiar, bringing a remarkable descent through the rushing wind of the storm unto a set of large streets.

A couple of important lessons were to be learned from this operation, firstly being the punctual response. The Lantern's means of arrival he wasn't sure of, but Superman's entrance to the raging rain had been aerial and from the outside; the former's point of origination had been within an outer section of the jutsu, beginning from the ground.

Equally as pressing, though, was the Kryptonian's combination of incredible speed _and_ strength. Both surpassed his own, and he was doubtful that even his toughest means of improving defense would be capable of withstanding his might. The number of chakra receivers that would be required to control him sufficiently was a subject that had caught his curiosity, though the likelihood of that ever happening or him _going_ that far seemed rather abysmal. At least at the present.

' _It's not as if I couldn't heal it_ ,' the redhead thought lightly, Hell Realm coming to mind. The feeling was admittedly unpleasant, but the end-result was what mattered.

However, when his gaze shifted to the easily-captured unconscious hero for the sixth time in the few minutes of standing in their new forested setting some excessive ways from before, Nagato decided that this man was not living up enough to his namesake. Despite the hero's haggard appearance, darker splotches of red having long dried over around the two puncturing black masses, time was pressing, in all likelihood. It was with a quick and simple performance of hand-seals that his cheeks bulged, the redhead leaning forward slightly before a large spray of water smacked into the unsuspecting hostage.

The Flash sputtered for a moment, the jutsu ending quickly while he spit water out, Nagato reigning in a small portion of his chakra's influence.

"My apologies for the rough take-down, but you _are_ a founding member."

"Well thank goodness you didn't decide on _Batman_ ," replied the flash sarcastically, none of the joy he'd seen expressed in the photos and interview present in his head's demeanor.

Nagato actually grinned at that, small as it was, and apparently unsettling to the older man, white orbs slightly widening.

' _He speaks as he moves. Apparently quicker than he thinks, too, at least for the moment,'_ observed the shinobi, mentally noting the mentioned Founder's endurance as likely the lowest of all. Useful as it was, this conversation needed to steer in the opposition's direction.

Slowly manifesting a rod from his sleeve, Nagato continued, "We are going to come to an understanding." Pronouncing the statement, his hand audibly grasped the rod, going through the motions he knew this hero before him to know well enough by now. The fearful expression certain–

"Wait – you-haven't-even-told-me-what-you-want!"

Amazing as the flow of words were, the redhead still brought the rod's sharp tip up against Flash's jugular, earning a remarkably audible inhale at the action. Slight pressure pressed it further to the gland, indenting the red latex above. A constant thought for his captive, whom despite his felt protests at subjugation, could not manage but a simple turn of the head. The desired silence cued the speedster's understanding of the order of things.

Regarding him with a stoic frown, brows pulled together in threatening attention alongside a piercing gaze, Nagato spoke, "Any and all information regarding The Light." The group's name brought on a gleam of suspicion to Flash's away-facing expression.

"And wh–"

Hearing the beginning of a definite question, Nagato pointedly said, "That woman seemed to care quite extensively for you, _Barry_." His ringed gaze bore into the hero's widened ones, and they went unchanged even as Flash's teeth grit in fearful frustration. Not to his surprise, "The Fastest Man Alive" did manage a peep before he forced his mouth shut, forcing the man's head completely straight ahead. The shinobi fixed The Flash with a threatening glare, putting a sizable amount of his power into the look, the non-carrier still managing to feel the intent. That flame died, a whole myriad of inadequately hidden looks of worry passing by in a just as impressive rate as his speech. Though he knew not what meanings the hero was assigning the vague threat, it was obvious that he was doing the ninja's job for him all on his own. The ground was soon of immense interest, the man hardly even seeming to notice the allowed motion, that flame having long died out - at least by this one's standards.

' _Another piece of information I did not desire.'_ It was somewhat ironic. The plan was to apprehend the hero with the intention of learning The Light's make-up and maybe even a location to start his search. Yet so far, he'd gotten more on the heroes.

' _Hopefully this progresses better. That was my last available threat..._ '

"Vandal Savage..." came the gruff, quiet reply, "The leader's name is Vandal Savage," the man replied stronger, now facing his captor's rinnegan stare bravely. And so began the flow of sought information.

* * *

"That's all I've–"

A swift, open-palmed hand struck the man's forehead, promptly ceasing his speech and consciousness before the head even pivoted completely back in response. Yet still Flash stood, the rods and chakra's hold still true. Nagato willed the receivers' existence to end, them doing so with a cracking deterioration that blew listlessly in the breeze before fading, Flash immediately falling to the ground in pure rag-doll fashion.

For a moment, he eyed the fallen hero, frown adorning his features at the man's beaten state. His decision was swift, having his camouflaged summon open its mouth before stepping backwards onto its tongue, mouth closing afterward.

' **Jigokudō.** '

Burning purple flames covered a circular area near The Flash, the King of Hell sprouting from the ground at a lax rate until fully revealed, Nagato viewing the fallen hero from three angles whilst the head opened its mouth to let out an elongated, tongue-like appendage. The hand grasped Flash by the head, lifting him and feeding him into its large jaws.

Deciding it time, he took his leave as the chewing began, chameleon speeding off with no particular destination in the summoner's mind. Anywhere unpopulated. Somewhere he could recuperate from the near-endless usage of chakra over the past few days. In addition, a peaceful setting would make the drafting of his next move that much more pleasant of an experience.

However, the location would have to be a ways from here thanks to his helping of The Flash, whom just now exited the King of Hell's Jaws in his namesake, stopping with a visible shiver going up his form even as he stared in unnerved confusion at his healer. The latter emotion seemed to fade somewhat when the man took notice of the ringed eyes watching him, but that was the last thing Nagato saw before the summon descended back into the flames.

Stomach rumbling, he pulled an apple from his pocket – one of many stolen food items – and took a refreshing bite, chewing thoughtfully whilst sitting with crossed legs atop the lizard's soft tongue.

' _So not even the League knows much of them,_ ' Nagato thought with another bite, frowning as he recalled The Flash's rather unimpressive information on them. While more than was given by the few articles during his library visit, it wasn't hard to improve upon a simple naming of the clearly dangerous group. However, four names alongside their respective abilities and the organization's purpose was something, even if not enough.

He couldn't help shaking his head at the playing of God the organization held, but figured he wasn't exactly the best person to judge. Then again, the one apparently _was_ a God – of destruction, Flash had said – so perhaps the God-complex of their objective wasn't such a surprise.

In any case, his information pool was unsatisfactory. And considering his definite acquisition of world-wide notoriety, he was beginning to feel a bit impatient.

Taking one last bite of his fruit, Nagato tossed the stem to the rear of the summon's mouth, vaguely feeling the motions of the lizard's swallowing it. The redhead plopped his upper half down and outstretched his legs, sleep coming steadily as the summon continued its trek.


	3. Chapter 3

Wet steps flew by, Nagato's speeding form passing through tall grass. He sped over a body of water, entering a tree-ridden section within the marsh. Droplets fell in plentiful amounts from the foliage, the over-head storm keeping the wet on-pour going. Cool wind assaulted his front, the feeling pleasant as it rustled the loose garb he wore. The shinobi's gaze never left his target, though, focusing on the black car's lit front in his parallel following of it.

The driver was a fellow by the name Hugo Strange. Doctor. Psychiatrist.

Warden.

Warden of a prison holding criminals of the highest ill-repute. A facility by the name Belle Reve. And what better location to start in his search for The Light than the nest of literal bees, their stingers even neutered within the reputedly tightly sealed facility.

For a few days Nagato had resided within this marsh, the lone road beside it being the sole path leading toward the prison. During which Nagato learned the warden's arrival at said facility to be at an early hour before sun-rise.

Nagato's speed heightened, once again entering a field of tall grass. Gaining the needed lead, he jumped.

 _' **Shuradō.**_ _'_

Chakra abruptly shot from his soles, Nagato soaring off head-first through the over-grown foliage. Grass blew away from his passing form, the redhead zooming off in a straight line. His exit from the wild-land unto the road-side was perfectly timed, Strange's vehicle right before him.

The rockets halted before the warden could even turn his head halfway, Nagato flipping himself over and slamming foot-first into the car's side. Metal bent severely, his impact forcing the vehicle harshly off-road. From his crouched position upon the gruesomely dented passenger side of the vehicle, Nagato saw Strange jerk in his direction, eyes tightly shut in uncomprehending fear.

They landed within a canal, jostling his prospective captive further whilst the car slid across the body of water. Slowing in its journey, the vehicle came to an ebbing halt on its side, beginning a slow descent.

No sooner than it started, Nagato's fingers dug into an already wrecked door. Metal creaked loudly, him harshly tugging to rip it off. With a negligible swipe, the tarnished metal was sent spiraling into the distance.

With **Tendō,** Strange was lifted out of the vehicle, Nagato eying the man as he sputtered water. The liquid dripped from mostly-half of his apparel.

When the coughing fit eased, Strange looked to him. The older man's eyes widened upon seeing the ninja. Fear was etched upon the look, however slight, the redhead properly aligning his target.

' _So you know of me_ ,' thought the redhead as he eyed the man's floating form for a short moment. Turning, Nagato leapt over to shore and brought the half-soaked man along.

When Nagato next regarded Strange, the bald man seemed to have composed himself more. Strange was just in the process of clearing his throat, small droplets falling from his beard with the action.

 _'Military?'_ wondered the redhead. ' _Such would be ideal for his position… and residence,_ ' reasoned Nagato.

He spoke before his captive.

"Good morning, Dr. Strange," greeted Nagato politely, releasing **Tendō**. His hand thrust out for the falling man's neck, grasping as the warden choked raggedly. The redhead's thumb pressed to the man's windpipe, fingers clutching. Rinnegan maintained their gaze at Hugo whilst that orb pressed desperately upon the impending thumb's bottom.

The shift from warden to psychiatrist was remarkably swift.

 _'Non-military…_ ' thought Nagato, a measure of wonder coming from the realization. Strange's struggle was far too erratic, gasps for air desperate. Muscle within the neck were working overtime, contracting continuously whilst Strange made in his pathetic attempts to improve the new enforcer's maintenance. Futilely, Strange's left hand attempted to dig its fingers underneath Nagato's gripping ones, other pushing off the redhead's arm.

Through haggardly worn black-tinted glasses stared fearful browns, eyes strained in their narrow attention to Nagato's grey-purple ones. The shinobi's half-lidded rinnegan blinked, uncaring in their gaze as his captive's wide open mouth managed the shallowest of intakes.

"I've come before you today for but one simple question," casually informed the shinobi to the choking, struggling man. "To the best of your knowledge, which within your facility could escort me to The Light?"

Strange gulped with partial success, eyes closing tightly as a measure of calm took over his being. The shinobi loosened his grip, allowing the man a gulp of air.

"If you –"

That was not a name.

Nagato's grip immediately returned, swiftly silencing the shaky voice. Nagato's free hand went to Strange's one upon his arm, quickly grasping two elderly fingers. He snapped them back in contrast to the hand's grip, two meaty pops sounding. Strange's renewed struggle turned desperate, eyes wide with pain as an agonized shout was all but completely obscured.

Face cringed in agony, Hugo writhed despite the injury, pulling at Nagato's hand and arm with erratic desperation. Like his stare, the shinobi's grip did not budge. However, the new persistence was annoying, the redhead gripping harder. Nagato's fingers dug into the already strained skin, clutching around the windpipe.

Strange's head tilted, a guttural gag sounding whilst his reddened eyes rolled up. Clutching his grip just a measure tighter, the doctor's eyes began to bulge, legs swaying frantically. Hugo's hands clawed at Nagato's hold, a guttural gag barely escaping his shuddering throat as those bent fingers twitched.

"Calm yourself," murmured Nagato, loosening his hold back into its original grip. Strange's legs ceased their kicking, shakily coming to a trembling calm. Teary browns blinked, struggling breaths resuming their previous inadequacy. The prying fingers remained upon Nagato's hand, their freeing attempts now feeble.

"Now, Doctor Hugo Strange, I'm expecting a name this time," he informed his captive, dully. "Do you understand?"

A barred swallowing motion went through the body part Nagato was grasping, Hugo's eyes closing into a wince. When the good doctor nodded, Nagato said, "Very well."

Release was slowly gifted.

" _Speak,_ " ordered Nagato.

And blurt out did the psychiatrist, "Brick!" in a loud gasp of sweet oxygen. Hasty intakes followed, them visibly rejuvenating to Nagato's captive.

Brick.

Nagato's stare didn't move, changed not the slightest in its regard. Strange was silent, pitifully meeting his gaze whilst still futilely attempting to pull away to further clear his windpipe.

' _Brick,_ ' thought Nagato meanwhile. The criminal certainly looked the part. ' _But this man,_ ' his mind continued, ' _how can he hold such a title… and be this easy to break?_ '

In that case.

_' **Jigokudō.** '_

To the right began his summon's burning entrance, purple flames bursting to life upon the ground. They quickly spread out to form a circular pit of rising embers, Hugo watching them with widened eyes. A clear view was given of one brown orb in its ever-increasing fear when the otherworldly screeches of terror sounded. The noise echoed hauntingly, the King of Hell's large head sprouting seamlessly from the flames.

Nagato released Dr. Strange, dropping him to the ground. The doctor immediately took advantage of his freedom, breathing deep and quick. Dr. Strange lifted a hand to his throat, rubbing it with a mild cringe as he looked back to the shinobi. However, the rain nin's summon fully emerged by then, coming to a resounding halt that re-earned Hugo's attention.

"The King of Hell," introduced Nagato.

By the time the summon's mouth opened, that brown eye seemed about ready to fall out of its socket. Lowering his trembling hand, the warden cautiously held the injured one.

Nagato continued unsparingly with, "Get in."

Strange's glasses almost fell in the speed at which that bald head turned to regard Nagato fully, hand all but forgotten in his left's fragile hold upon it.

"What?" uttered the older man, looking as if he might flee.

He began to do just that, though, committing to a few small back-steps. Back and forth looked Strange, from summon to summoner, furthering in his fearful retreat. The so-called "warden" managed to almost stumble in the process, but it was amidst that minor error in which Nagato made for him again.

With a simple body flicker, Nagato was before his target once again, surprise flashing across Strange's expression right as a pale hand shot out and grabbed around the same area. Wheezing out a shocked choke, the doctor was hefted into the air, his stare wide as they returned to their previous predicament.

Nagato's thumb fit perfectly over a darkening red bruise, him regarding his re-acquired captive for but a moment. Turning toward the King of Hell, the redhead made for his summon as the flames gently crackled. Beyond that and Hugo's strangled gagging, silence ensued whilst soft footsteps passed on wet landscape.

After a short ways, Nagato eased his thumb's press.

"I gave y–!" screamed the doctor, Nagato once again clamping the orifice shut, not allowing the breath to be fully taken. That orb bobbed helplessly against Nagato's thumb whilst he walked, gulps never getting their desired fill.

With increased fervor Strange struggled, injured hand reaching for Nagato's head, the ninja pulling away lightly with a slight frown. The doctor's other hand, though, went into his coat, Nagato pulling the man downward.

His knee jutted forth into Strange's gut, the bald man's mouth flying open with a silent sputtering of pain. The warden's neck flexed, muscles spasming as brought up air was halted in its vacancy. His captive's hand shot stiffly out of the coat, flexing fingers dropping a syringe to the ground.

Blinking, Nagato hefted the man back up to his original position, continuing in his lax walk. Tears of pain descended from behind haggardly worn glasses, Strange's head shaking weakly in the negative.

Release.

"Please, they'll – "

That earned a grip, interrupting the moaned out plea. Pathetically Strange tried to pull up, throat's muscles contracting under the grip. Be it for air or to speak, the shinobi cared not. It went ignored even as the effort seemed to have yells behind it, Dr. Strange finding a remarkable amount of energy to regain a semblance of his previous struggle as they neared.

Nagato's arm lowered a measure, outstretching. Further the limb extended, until the doctor lie within his summon's gaping jaws. Merciless rinnegan stared dully into terrified browns.

Hugo's foot made contact with the soft, wet tongue.

Release.

" _I can take you!"_ shrieked the good doctor, having such a strained hold upon Nagato's arm. Those couple fingers were twitching again, though it didn't seem Strange noticed.

And just like The Flash, his work was done yet again by his victim's own perceptions.

Displeasure leaked to the shinobi's grey-purple gaze, not particularly caring for his captive's lying. His eyes narrowed at the associated doctor, watching him take large breaths of air.

Pulling back, Nagato decided to grant the man's plea. His summon quickly dissipated in a trail of purple flames upon the wind whilst Nagato gently threw the man back. Their trailing was watched with relief by the stumbling doctor before he began to regard his hand with a quiet hiss, back lightly arched.

"You will get me a meeting with them." It was final.

Dr. Strange straightened from his examination of the injured hand, cringing with the action. He stuttered out a fearfully agreeable, "yes". Uselessly the man then looked over their surroundings, the road being across the river his car had gone into.

Before dealing with that problem, Nagato strode over to Strange, grabbing the harmed fingers and quickly snapping the joints back in with a harsh tug, his fellow criminal's beginning utterance sky-rocketing to a resounding yell whilst they popped accordingly. Ignoring his plight, the redhead jumped across the river with quick ease, activating **Tendō** and bringing along the doctor, awaiting on the other end for a moment as the doctor's beginning cowardice manifested and ceased.

On the other side, Nagato eyed the man pointedly with his rinnegan stare, honestly not wishing to be with the corrupt warden for much longer than needed. He could understand that detail's likely meaning with regards to the _residence_. Though he'd not ask.

Upon arrival at the street, Strange took out a wet… device he knew to be called a… ' _Cell Phone._ ' Messily its operation went by. Strange turned his eyes to him after the act, them immediately shifting away when they met Nagato's head-on.

During the "good" doctor's clutching of that small device, their '… _taxi,_ ' arrived.

* * *

Being confined to one of those constructs alongside the corrupt warden was more than appalling. To make matters worse, the man was a coward, having only been capable of overly politely stuttering an inquiry of the shinobi's intentions. A vague inquiry. To which he'd answered with "employment".

Simplicity itself.

Following that utterance, Strange seemed to slowly ebb into a form of calm. Nagato also never felt his presence stop leaning in the opposing direction, though, the thought bringing some amusement at the man's current look upon him. From behind his office's desk, hands brought together atop it, Dr. Strange fixed him in what the rain nin could only figure was the man's attempt at looking the part of his position.

Nagato's stare never graced the corrupt official's look through dark glass, simply sitting in wait within this admittedly formidable fortress. The walls leading to Strange's office had all been thick, looking to be just as solid as they were wide. And with the machinery he'd seen thus far – both in society and the containment center – it was not hard to imagine there being a lock-down mechanism for the building's entirety.

However futile it would prove to be.

A red sphere suddenly pulsed into formation within the room, blurry in its revolving, jaggedly-edged darkness as it expanded outward. Nagato calmly turned to regard the dark formation, it cutting harmlessly through the floor in its red-black expansion. Entering walked two figures aside one another from the portal: a suited boy and coated man, cat lying upon the boy's shoulder with a fluid motion to its tail.

Ignoring the grinning boy of supposed godhood, Nagato body flickered before the still-approaching leader, those large boots just making landfall upon the floor. A calm step of Nagato's was in the process when the action was not at all perceived as any notion of peace. Amidst the cat's loud hiss, Savage's large boots made their own advance, two resounding footfalls passing whilst Klarion and pet alike seemed to gather some otherworldly dark-red energy to themselves.

Scowling, The Light's leader made for his upper chest with a sounding rush through air, likely intending an abrupt upheaval of Nagato's current intake. Bringing forth **Tendō** , Nagato's clutched hand rose, back-handing the larger fist awry. Swiveling his hand, Nagato grasped the larger man's wrist. Tugging in vain, Nagato stepped forward as large heels re-planted to the ground.

A high pitched roar tore through the air, Nagato feeling a surge of malevolent dark energy in the kid's direction as his knee jutted toward Savage's mid-riff. Savage managed an impressive shift to block the hit. The large arm took the resounding impact effortlessly, Nagato glancing toward the boy.

Dark energy seemed to be emitting from the now gruesomely transformed "boy", cat's features sharpening in a sinister manner, though not coming close to the child's. And before Klarion's complete raising of his dark sleeve-covered arms – petulantly demanding silence upon his vocal cat – Nagato activated another path.

 _'_ _****_Shuradō_**.** _ _'_

A second's worth of a minor push passed, Savage's blocking limb receding under Nagato's knee. Savage's feet left the floor, free arm crossing behind the defending one. They soared for the wall, enlightening blue chakra rocketing from beneath Nagato's raised sole. The duo slammed to an indenting halt upon the sturdy wall, Savage grunting with minor pain.

Vandal's frown tightened, nose scrunching lightly as Nagato's attack persisted, digging them a measure deeper into the wall. Deactivating the rocket, Nagato kicked off the crossed limbs with his free foot, hearing a sound of crackling fire.

Turning toward the boy's direction amidst his mid-air retreat revealed a sizable ball of burning dark-red flames, rapid in its approach whilst one still floated above Klarion's raised hand. Straightening his back into a horizontal alignment, Nagato's soles shot a small burst of chakra, the crackling blob roaring past him.

Even so, joy remained etched upon Klarion's snarling grin, red eyes glinting. With a quick swipe, the god's grin split across his demonic guise, another burning entity being hurled at Nagato.

Landing, Nagato slid upon the floor, leaning forward with spread arms. Rinnegan widened in their focus upon the burning mass. Minor usage of **Tendō** had it burst into a quickly dissipating array of spreading flames. Klarion's expression immediately morphed into a petulant scowl, growling as the previous one hit the wall with concussive force. His pale hands lifted once more, red energy surging to the limbs with a crackling ferocity.

The impending attack, however, was not the problem, singed wall or not.

Dr. Strange.

For reasons Nagato belatedly began to recall, the "good" doctor thought it wise to utter two woefully foolish words.

"Voice activation –"

And while Nagato did not fear it, a fight had not been his actual intention. And now that he'd gotten this far, the last person who was going to further escalate the situation would be this petty, corrupt official.

Grounding his feet, Nagato's slide came to a halt. His body swiftly twisted to the side, swiping a sleeve-covered arm at the panicked doctor. The makings of "zero" were coming to a shouting completion before a black receiver harpooned the man in the stomach, shooting Strange back towards the wall with his shoes' grind upon the floor. Slamming to full impalement, Nagato allowed but for the digging of aged and tense fingers upon the surface as blood seeped into the man's clothes.

An ecstatic grin formed on the "boy" during Nagato's lax return to a calm stand. Wicked laughter erupted from Klarion, deformed features laced with amusement in his cackling, though the spiraling orbs of fire did not leave.

Dark flames quickly dissipating to nothing, the god's arms lowered to his side, seeming to wish nothing more than to… appreciate the scenery. A grin was once more splitting across Klarion's face, joy being reminiscent of that which Hidan had taken in these doings. The orange black-striped cat was more neutral, almost observing, meowing lowly in its owner's ear whilst keeping its gaze on Nagato.

Footfall from the leader's direction got Nagato's attention, his ringed gaze meeting with Vandal's hard browns. A displeasured frown now marred his already such face, three scars cutting across the man's face in a slash. One gloved hand moved to swipe a small amount of remaining debris from his person. Both moved to his rear upon finishing.

Interrupting his maniacal cackling, Klarion spoke from the other end: "This guy's _great_ , Vandal!," the claim coming out in a ferociously growled out attempt at a child's voice.

"I presume," began Savage, seeming to ignore his partner's delight, "that you called us here with more civil intentions."

The man stood before Nagato, looking down upon the shinobi's shorter gaze. In another moment, the suited "boy" manifested in a fiery darkness' upward and wicked expansion beside his older partner.

"Something about employment?" Remarked Klarion lightly, grin widening whilst its owner tilted his head mockingly in their audience's presence with obvious joy at the doctor's plight. A red aura persisted on his and the cat's form, the latter letting out a louder meow to its owner this time.

"Yes, Teekl, I know," ground out the boy petulantly to the cat, eyes narrowing at the feline's annoyed glare. Its ears were flatted with a crinkled nose, the cat's whiskers pressing into stretched settlements upon furry orange cheeks.

Nagato's head, though, followed the boy's previous motion, his frown deepening in dissatisfaction at Strange's continued presence. Klarion's head turned for obvious further amusement when Nagato moved casually over to the man, dark cloak mildly billowing in his travel. He jumped over the desk and up to the terrified doctor. The metal's removal sounded against steel and flesh alike, the bleeding psychiatrist yelling upon its full extraction and slumping into a pained plummet.

With **Tendō** , Dr. Strange was assisted into a pathetic walk as he clutched his wound, Nagato sitting calmly upon the desk with a crossed leg, the other loosely dangling the edge. When Savage broke eye contact to regard Strange subtly, though, Nagato halted the man's progress.

"Strange." A pause. "If you value your life, this facility will remain undisturbed." The redhead merely blinked before resuming Strange's departure, the door's closing behind the man soon enough before **Tendō** ceased. Feeling Strange's swift reunion with the ground, a corner of Nagato's lips quirked minutely. In a moment, the minor show of emotion disappeared, stoically regarding Vandal with his dull gaze.

"Vandal Savage, leader of The Light." Those brown eyes focused, slightly narrow in their hardening alongside a deepening frown.

Turning to politely regard the now returned to par child disguise Klarion wore,"And Klarion, God of Chaos." This one's eyes met his ringed ones with a wild intensity, their wish to inflict destruction nearly glowing back in their now-black depths.

Back to Vandal Savage he turned, purple-gray eyes meeting brown. "My name is Pain," introduced Nagato politely.

"You don't say," replied Klarion flippantly with wicked amusement, head tilting before, "Never heard of ya."

"Agreed." Dissatisfaction was laced in Savage's tone. "And I find it hard to believe one with your features could remain hidden for any length of time."

"I have my ways," replied Nagato with a small curve of his lips, one that rescinded as he continued, "However, my methods of remaining obscure are not why I've come before you."

"State your business."

"You and I share in our want for pain's passage upon the world. Your organization would serve as a sort of insurance, if you will. An insurance for both my infliction of pain and the fruition of your evolutionary goals for this world in the face of our numerous enemies ranking amongst the heroes."

"One such enemy which you," pointing a large, accusing gloved hand, "returned in perfect health. And now it is your hope that I will place belief in any claims you stake at being a bringer of pain?" Savage's seemingly constant glare went into a sudden actual one then, he guessed, watching brown eyes narrow further upon his rinnegan's own maintained eye contact. "The picture I am grasping at the current far from satisfies," brows drawing down ever so slightly, "so I suggest you ratify that self-profession in your little speech."

Nagato's frown at the sudden interruption was everlasting, though. He did not appreciate the rudeness. The confirmation Savage sought had been upcoming in his discourse. Fortunately, he maintained control and _didn't_ let any killer intent leak out. Unlike earlier. "No assurance of any form of alliance between us existed then nor at the present. Regardless of my… efficiency, " Klarion's vile grin immediately following, "holding such harsh relations with The League would be foolish at the present."

With the return of his calm frown, Nagato continued before their own more pacified countenances, "If my services should be entailed by your organization, you'll find it to be a never-occurring event post-haste."

Klarion's vote was visually obvious. Many more incidents of definite relevance to both of Nagato's victims were being conjured up behind those orbs, he was fairly certain.

A sinister twist, however slight, pulled at the larger man's mouth, eyes lighting as if a thought just came. And then the look disappeared, lips thinning before speaking.

"If we are to align in any sense, assurance will be required for both parties. Simple words do not suffice." The frown was back again, but Klarion's face seemed to indicate the god had some idea as to what it was that Vandal was getting to. Nagato took it as a good sign, seeing as the grin went feral...

"However," the man began again, "there is an action that I believe would grant the first step."

With a smirk, the Lord of Chaos formed another sphere of pulsing dark red energy, this one closing in on them at an odd angle. Nagato regarded it calmly before its hit upon his person, the three of them suddenly standing within a heavily forested setting.

Upon a small hill's ledge they stood, a city lying some ways to their front. The sun's light bled marginally over the land in an ethereal glow that traced the outline of a far off mountain. An ocean lied to both of the locations' sides, the sun-kissed mountain being upon the city's farther end from the trio.

Judging by their gazes, it was not the city that was of interest… but the mountain?

"Within that mountain," began Vandal, signature glare furthering just so upon its distant yet large form, "lies a base belonging to enemies of The Light—a covert team of would-be heroes whom have proved to be of increasing nuisance."

Their foliage-covered surroundings rustled in the wind, only to be interrupted by Klarion turning to bodily regard Nagato with that persisting smile. "Since you're going there, be sure to destroy those _souvenirs,_ " the last word being sneered out. But the grin returned, then… hopeful.

'… _souvenirs?_ '

What souvenirs?

"Ask around," answered Klarion, the words dragged out somewhat. "I'm sure you can persuade them."

The redhead, though, couldn't help but frown mentally at the proceedings, despite his slight grin in response to the clearly malevolent god's own much more apparent one. The black hair's horn-like points seemed to curve further.

' _The youngsters...?_ ' he thought with some measure of distaste. He'd been hoping for the _Justice League_. Not once-been so-called "side-kicks".

Nagato almost sighed before both turned to regard the large rock formation. This was not going towards what he'd hoped. Was it his appearance? Or were these children really that formidable…?

Nonetheless, this was the door opened before apparent membership, and negotiation would not come from his person. If nothing else, this would help him keep concealed from the light. Still, he'd be cautious. After all, it had taken just one blonde ninja of a young age to defeat him in Konoha.

He'd turn his back on no opponent, just as his Master taught him. Just as he'd always done since.

The thought hardened his gaze upon the mountain.

"Leave none standing," Savage following the order just as coldly with, "In recompense for their intrusion in our affairs, among others, following _your_ disappearance alongside enthralled hero."

Having his primary objectives, Nagato took his leave from the duo, jumping calmly to the ledge's bottom with a rustling cloak. Landing lightly, he walked amongst the dirt and trees toward the city's edge. Interrupting his ninja boot's light steps called Klarion, "Make sure to destroy _a–_ " what sounded like Savage "– _half_ of the base!" the corrected word coming out much less enthusiastically in petulance. Another sound, though slightly less noticeable from the redhead's walk, of Savage came before, "Zeta Tubes, too!"

And he could guess: just ask.

Nagato shrugged amidst his lax journey.

' _Fine by me._ '

Asking had proven fruitful so far, even exceedingly so at times… He hoped they were up for it. In no less than two physical senses.

Nagato began to run, forestry flying by in blurs of green-brown. His speed steadily increased, garb billowing heavily. He entered the city bounds through the forest-edge, furthering his velocity through the Human Path. The redhead zipped neatly through his new setting, rapidly approaching the mountain.

 **Tendō** pushed him further, creating a brief rift in the air before he shot off. Crossing over to the opposite end of the city, greenery once again took over his surroundings. Simple chakra and **Ningendō** were sufficient for the journey's remainder, however, Nagato's usage of **Tendō** ceasing.

He looked to the mountain in his approach. Pupils constricting inward, Nagato's eyes widened marginally. The world's colors shifted to black-white, no barriers coming into view. With that, he lessened his focus, orbs' black centers returning to their original size as he continued on.

Nagato came upon the mountain, turning amidst his run. He began to journey around the enormous rock formation, eyes taking in its towering form for any feasible entryway.

Half-way into the process, his foot landed upon something – a piece of land differing in its feel from the rest. Immediately his feet dug into the ground, twisting around as he slid across the grass to a stop. Bending his knees, Nagato jumped to the location.

Landing, his brows drew together whilst his posture straightened. He frowned at the ground, soles emitting a minute amount of chakra into the ground. Crouching, Nagato lowered a palm upon grass-covered soil, his eyes closing in concentration as he felt around the area.

Opening his eyes, the shinobi returned to a calm stand. Noting the location of the secret entrance, Nagato moved to continue surveying the area. Once a revolution was completed, he moved to run up the mountain-side, spiraling up it.

When a decent ways up the mountain, Nagato stopped into a sideways stand. Again he crouched, getting another reading with a palm to the ground. There was definitely something in there, but, unfortunately, no entryways through the rock were felt.

Standing up, the redhead regarded the top of the mountain for a thoughtful moment. Nearly half of its entirety was now lit. That, and the _entirety_.

Moving to face the actual ground, Nagato rose his hands, bringing them together. He performed a sequence of jutsu, each ones' hand-seals flashing by. Each element other than rock came to fruition on either side of himself, earth raising from the mountain-side. The elements continued to gather, hastily forming crude humanoid forms. The Doton Clone fully rose from the ground, compressing into Nagato's likeness whilst the others did the same.

With a final shift in color to match their creator fully, they moved to stand beside the original in a line. All of them looked to that entrance, Nagato's eyes narrowing. Leaping off, they fell alongside one another, cloaks rustling heavily amidst their descent.

Landing within the trees first, Nagato darted ahead. He was able to make it to their destination first with little effort.

Standing in the grass' morning dew, Nagato began to contemplate his move. The way he figured it, the sooner he rid himself of the martian's threat, the better. He didn't wish to verify whether or not the girl could still manage to compromise his mind through its in-place seals and the Human Path's elusiveness.

She would be priority one, when spotted. The thought went through all their minds, the clones reaching their creator. They spread out to the sides of the soon-to-be entryway's width amidst the original's feel upon the ground.

Getting up, he took a few backward steps, until clear.

Thrusting out an open palm toward the thin layer of earth, quickly gaining enough control, an upward swipe had the covering ripped out in a dirt and grass mess, large pieces of both falling from what looked like a sizable square slab of metal; the two hinges upon its sides affirmed its previous use as a doorway.

As the soil-covered metal mass went on its journey for the nearby ocean, Nagato mixed within their numbers, the six of them making their way in down the metal entrance-way amidst a persistent, _loud_ alarm. The tunnel began somewhat roomy, but eventually, it widened considerably. Not long after this, they were within.

It was a blue-white lit room, the source being at the center of the spanning ceiling, in a line. The structure within the bulbs lie took up much of it, descending a ways in an odd oval shape. The floor here was metal, as well, and on it, were three heroes, widened eyes on each. Other than the three surprised young ones, there lie a hallway to the left, though it was more on their end… To the right, a set of… metallic devices, he ventured, of great size lie within the rock wall. They were sunken into it and glowing with a dark hue of pulsing blue.

He looked to the heroes.

But a loud voice rung out from those odd metal machines, Nagato and a couple other clones looking to it to see its hue suddenly switch to yellow.

"Recognized: Captain Marvel – 15."

An orb of yellow energy came to fruition, its form sizing down into the shape of a large man before taking on the characteristics of the red and yellow hero.

Nagato gave him little else observation, focusing more on the machines themselves with somewhat widened rinnegan, his stare blank upon the apparent hero highway-lanes.

' _Those have to go_.' He sensed enough opponents within this base as it was.

Amidst the man's just-revealed frown, Nagato began to push a considerable amount of chakra into **Tendō,** the air receding slowly, though with enough force to have Marvel retreat with it whilst coming to a surprised completion.

The young ones' attack was accompanied by his arms' lifting; to the right, metallic bat-shaped projectiles and shards of ice came to an immediate halt in their travel. Nagato's left though, thrust out, palm open with ever-increasing chakra in collection, cloak's sleeve billowing plentifully.

" **Shinra Tensei**."

Nagato's entire garb shook violently, hair blown back whilst the destructive force burst from his front, arching outward at a considerable angle. The floor was uprooted, forced backward in a mess of metal and earth debris, rapidly approaching the devices and forcing the three young ones into a quick retreat away from **Tendō's** ever-increasing destruction. Past them it went, hastily and noisily crashing into the wide-eyed man, crunching everything into the rock wall with an unrelenting forcefulness that shook the entire room considerably.

Taking a light breath, he ceased the effort, a sudden calm coming over the clouded area whilst they began to settle. Lights flickered as he dropped his arms back down, turning to the heroes. They were visibly intimidated, eying him with even wider orbs.

Frowning in disappointment, Nagato stepped to the front of his group. His walk was short, stopping to fully regard the heroes with his ringed gaze.

"Come," called the shinobi.

Seconds ticked by, seeing the three youngsters lightly regard one another, though no body-signals or words were exchanged. Toward them he proceeded, leaving the clones behind. The three regarded him with re-assured confidence, Aqualad forming blue-glowing blades upon metal clasps before making in a steadfast charge forward. Kid Flash took to a side-ward run, Nightwing throwing a set of those bat-like metals.

The slew of projectiles was responded to in kind by a couple of explosive kunai from Nagato's party, their meeting rocking the room briefly. Trembles going to trebles, the shinobi kept watch upon a confident yet visibly irked blur of yellow. Speeding even further, Nagato was sure he would come in for an attack at any second.

His feet grounded amidst his calm venture, rinnegan shifting to the left in their sockets before his body slanted back in avoidance of the boy's fist making straight for the side of his skull. Wide green looked to stoic grey-purple. A pale hand grasped at the passing yellow wrist, using the boy's momentum to start a partial wind. Foot shifting marginally upon the floor, Nagato pulled the young hero down into a cloak-covered knee's rising. It was a quick jab, yet powerful, jutting the boy up with a croak of pain.

Letting go, Nagato swiftly adjusting his one-legged stand to thrust the same leg outward, augmented sole impacting upon the lightning's center. In a speedy retreat for Aqualad his foe was sent, soaring through the air without conscious movement.

Aqualad wasted only a second with surprise, thrusting out his arms whilst the solid weapons shifted back into water, still-glowing and shifting into a web-like form. Its creation was interrupted, though, "KF" – as Nightwing was currently yelling – splashing through it with ease and slamming into the water user. As the two went for the wall, Aqualad's efforts merely lost their glow, falling into a collection of regular water to the floor.

Sandal returning to the ground, both speeding entities slammed into the wall, indenting it a measure. Their fall to the ground elicited a trailing of smashed earth, Nagato turning to regard Nightwing before back-up arrived.

That was when a circulation sounded, air audibly and quite visibly beginning to revolve around his general area. Whilst he leapt away a distance, he viewed a tornado of great width and power circulate to formation, hearing another do the same in his clones' direction. They, too, scattered, in much the same fashion, though one did not get so lucky. Its sacrifice for one of the core proponents, however, was well worth the trade

Rushing through the air in retreat, still, Nagato sensed the others' coming, turning to see a set of red arrows coming for him as a pain shot through his head. Cringing with a lowered posture, Nagato's eyes opened into scathing slits.

The Martian.

' ** ** _Shuradō_** ,**' thought the shinobi in last ditch effort, relief flooding him while the line of arrows began their impacts. Each broke, though the last came alongside his landfall, exploding greatly and consuming his vision with blinding brightness. Through a large cloud of heated smoke he went, exiting it in a hurry.

Adjusting himself, Nagato landed with force upon rock wall, veins spanning from his footfalls. As they webbed outward, Superboy's airborne form emerged from the black cloud of Red Arrow's attack, heading straight for one of his clones. One of his _needed_ clones.

Shooting off from his position, Nagato shouldered the hero into the floor with himself. Into the floor dug Superboy's body, Nagato forcing his opponents head into the ground with a shoving hand whilst they went; their surroundings quieted as they went, Nagato belatedly sensing the appropriate clone engage Red Tornado.

His attack, though, was suddenly halted, himself lifting in the air, though his opponent continued on a short ways. Brows drawing together, his body was henceforth shoved toward the wall, him smashing into it. There was another, similar impact, it being followed by another clone's dissipation.

However, two were in position whilst the other engaged Red Tornado.

He watched as the hand-seals were performed, lips quirking even as he was plastered to the wall.

" **Fūton: Daitoppa**."

Thrusting out an arm, circulating wind shot forth from two extended fingers. The twisting wind and debris expanded greatly upon leaving the digits' length, taking the form of a winding, vertical twister. Rapid in its approach, Red Arrow and Nightwing were sure to make haste, though Miss Martian stayed in place, seeming to go ethereal.

A problem that was taken care of by the caster's partner, whom was in the process of his own seals.

" **Katon: Karyūdan** ," called the Fire Clone, leaning forward. Molten flames were spit from the mouth, meeting the wind jutsu near the base. Spreading pyre was woven into the tunneling wind, creating a great conflagration in the midst of pained screams.

Screams that heralded his freedom. Screams that got Superboy's attention.

To the ground the shinobi landed, crouching; beyond the Krytponian he viewed the twister turn with a starting move of his clone's arm in the other young heroes' direction.

"Mega – !"

Nagato shot forth while the martian's burnt form fell out of the flames, rockets in his soles propelling him straight into the Kryptonian's back and taking him into the rock wall. Air was knocked from his young opponent's lungs, pulling back and then shouldering Superboy further into rock. Groaning in pain, Superboy only got to open a single agitated eye before a pale hand grasped at his arm.

Shifting to the side, Nagato flung the boy toward his two clone's continued effort; the _Leaguer's_ took to more defensive tactics, meanwhile.

Funneling wind of Red Tornado's burst from the ground, halting Superboy's travels for the pyre-tornado that his young allies were running from. However, the jutsu was nearing the limits of its expansion, spiraling flames getting vicious as the one remaining clone swiftly made for it.

Meanwhile, Nagato's arm lifted in the distracted robot's direction.

" **Banshō Ten'in.** "

Resistance was brief, Red Tornado's footing failing as he was forcefully thrust in Nagato's direction. His metal feet grinded against the floor, sparks flying to the air while burning flames went on. Nagato turned from his intended target, lowering the hand to have Red Tornado's body dig into the floor.

To Superboy he looked briefly, seeing him preparing to jump over to Nightwing and Red Arrow. Likely intending to rescue them.

' _Heroes, indeed_ ,' thought the redhead wryly, fingers curling lightly in preparation. The hand turned somewhat, receiver coming to fruition.

By the throat Nagato caught the android, chakra receiver piercing straight through. Lax went the bot's entire body, remaining limbs hanging lifelessly. Not a moment was to be wasted though, the robot's previous opponent darting past its creator right when he heard Superboy's brutish jump. Nagato turned the held carcass toward the speeding clone, the Wind and Fire ones suddenly halting their fueling efforts; just as quickly, they leapt from the near-critical blazing mass.

Through the retreating duo, though, the clone jumped, Nagato blocking himself with the once-taller robot's remnants.

Superboy's landing sounded right as the rushing clone's outstretched hand made contact with the still-going jutsu. Blue tendrils shot out around the scorching mass' form, an electric charge spiking through the room right as the Kryptonian got his arms around his allies.

A blinding white overcame the vertical twister, coating the room's entirety with its glow. All in its vicinity was obliterated, flames violently bursting in every direction with charring concussive force.


	4. Chapter 4

Loud was the explosion, massive enough to crumble ceiling and floor alike, creating a vast fissure within the latter as the former rained chunks of rock and metal. Powerful were the gusts of scorching air that blew past him, stance lowered to maintain balance amidst the quaking ground, grip indenting Red tornado's neck.

With the end of the attack's force came the room's darkening, a set of ceiling-based lights aligning the room's remaining edges coming to life. While they lit the room decently, not much was visible with the dark clouds of his attack remaining. Electric jolts sounded lightly from the room's enlightening sides, clouds blinking back and forth in their degree of red.

Lifting a hand with two digits raised, he focused his chakra outward, enhancing it with the seal in its efforts. Eyes closing, it was not long before the locations of the three were known. Two were further away, Nagato guessing the Kryptonian to have thrown them; their distance certainly made it probable. And for Superboy, likely a last resort.

Sensing no movement from them, he dropped the seal, opening his eyes and looking upon Red Tornado's head. Eying the design revealed a yellow arrow going down the red head's face, ending just below a set of squarish gaps for eyes. A red brow jutted upward in just the slightest. Still, his head tilted in its regard, eying the rest for a moment.

The technology of this world was impressive. Teleportation, androids – what would be next?

Nagato's remaining two clones jumped to his rear, the shinobi just about to drop the metallic carcass before an impressively low, monotonous utterance emanated from the android's lips. He was… talking to someone. A "Konnor". Known to be conscious.

' _Good to know._ '

Reaching around the now-shorter robot for the excess in the rear, Nagato broke off a small piece of the piercing chakra receiver. Letting go of the robots neck and breaking off that end too, Nagato drove the in-hand black rod into the android's shoulder. Grabbing on tightly to the head with his other hand, a light indentation sounding, Nagato yanked to the right whilst maintaining his look of calm intrigue.

Rinnegan shifted to the right, following the head's separation from body. Tossing the lower remnants aside, it landing in a loud heap, Nagato brought the head back to his front, staring into the cylindrical cut-outs that served as eyes.

' _Konnor,_ ' thought the Rinnegan bearer, pondering on which fallen hero it might be. Still none were moving, clones making for his sides to take watch on their surroundings. Out of them all, he assumed the Kryptonian to be the most likely candidate for maintained consciousness.

Tossing the head to the side, it going straight into the rock wall, Nagato made for his suspect. Lifting Superboy with **Tendo** , Nagato's footfalls were accompanied by the sound of a receiver's manifestation. At its sounding, the Kryptonian ceased his act, looking to him with undisguised rage. Tired rage. Beaten rage. But rage nonetheless.

Speaking... rage.

"Give it your best shot," seethed the boy out, black eyes hardened in their almost hateful stare at him, "I've got nothing –"

It was unfortunate, considering the fellow was the only one other than himself not sporting tights. Other than the robot, anyways.

"Patience, Superboy," interrupted Nagato, halting the boy in his upright float, "we're getting there." There wasn't time to waste. Punctuality, after all.

He looked away, starting in a casual walk past the helpless one. It was obvious from the moment the kid _jumped_ at his clone that flight wasn't a likely presence within his itinerary.

"If you touch any –"

It was henceforth known as very unfortunate.

The rod in his hand instead went into Superboy, a quick turn accompanied by a just as swift thrust that shut the kid up with a silencing pierce through his shoulder.

Considering the young hero's biology, it was little surprise to view and feel Superboy resisting. And resisting quite well.

And still angry. His scowl actually managed to deepen further, even growling in defiance.

' _Be quiet..._ ' thought Nagato, turning to continue.

"Is that all –"

This time he merely raised an arm, his pause brief whilst two more receivers flew forth from his lightly singed sleeve's depths. Nearly indiscernible were the young hero's set of pained grunts, flesh being sliced through again.

Nagato's ninja boots sounded in the silence, smoke cleared completely now to reveal a vast fissure within the floor, most of the ceiling blown away with one of its own; both were burnt black, steam still rising from their surfaces, particularly within the center. Turning Superboy to face his journey, Nagato forced the Kryptonian into silence.

"I have need for the whereabouts of something here," started Nagato, coming upon the boy wonder. This darkly garbed, bird-like one was lightly burnt, though it appeared mostly to be clothes-deep. Painful, still, definitely, though much worse was possible.

But he was getting to that, turning toward Superboy to see him still glaring at him. A bit harder, even.

' _Amazing._ ' The kid was tough, he'd give him that.

So, onward to worse he went, hopefully. Red Arrow. He, too had burns upon his uniform, though this one bore reddened skin at a few exposed portions of skin. Nagato also noted Superboy's breathing changing. Just like a certain speedster, his captive's allowances seemed not so noticed.

So from Red Arrow he went, turning to journey toward the burnt form of Miss Martian. Those were nasty. Bodily, too. However, these, too, would heal, even if they'd take a lengthier duration. The quick movement of the jutsu had been for just that benefit. It could have been severe. Just a few seconds longer, and permanent damage, he assumed, would have set in. Assumed, since he knew very little of the Martian biology.

But things could always still get worse. Superboy's increased, raging intakes held something else in them. The desperate, futile struggle spoke of it in volumes whilst he made for her.

Fear.

Forming a rod, he smiled lightly, feeling a finger not his own twitch.

"The souvenirs," called Nagato, standing before Miss Martian's fallen form, the chakra receiver's manifestation ending. "Where are they?"

He gave the mad kid time. If he let him speak now, it would be something incorrect for sure. No, Nagato needed something at least somewhat nearer to calm.

In five seconds, he decided the boy had enough of that.

" **You're doing** –!"

"I usually do not give second chances, but since you are young and clearly inexperienced," snapping the piece off whilst beginning to raise, "I will allow you this one transgression."

Five more seconds. Anticipation gnawed at him, but he kept his calm, allowing the boy speech once more.

" _Stop!_ "

And there it was: the desperate plea for a loved one.

More things he didn't want to know… That were simply none of his business and that he'd be discarding until of relevance, again.

' _Then again..._ ' thought Nagato whilst looking upon the fallen martian thoughtfully, " _Superman's rather public with his… and public in general._ ' Superboy himself seemed to be wearing mere Superman merchandise. _'Perhaps they are a known item?_ '

Nagato hoped not, even if the boy's mentor didn't exactly give much cause for such wise actions.

Turning toward his captive, Nagato saw anger even now _still_ managing to appear on the kid's face. It was simply amazing. Clearly, this was a lingering thing. Would be a lingering thing.

So he'd best make the best of it.

"I can.. _take_ you to them," grit out Superboy, eyes trained on him with a hateful submission behind them. His attention went to the rod when it began to dissipate, briefly, going back to Nagato with just a measure of calm coming over his expression.

Ceasing **Tendo's** hold, Superboy fell to the ground on steady feet, Nagato releasing his hold just enough to allow motor function.

"Lead," ordered the shinobi, ignoring Superboy's straining grimace whilst lifting the martian instead. "You have one minute," informed Nagato to the boy's furthered anger at his action, "before she becomes leader."

...

Speech was not allowed while they made for the souvenirs. Enough angry words had been spouted as it were, and silence was very much golden in comparison. Other than the light trail of Superboy's blood, anyways. Not that Nagato was worried. It would be a long while before that particular aspect proved life-threatening.

"You'll… never… get away..." forced out Superboy whilst Nagato followed, thirty seconds remaining for the martian.

"Impressive," was all that Nagato replied with, actually genuinely feeling such toward the boy's ability to manage speech. Sure, he wasn't getting further than that, by no means, but it was still notable.

Their journey went without any further speaking, and by the last fifteen seconds, he sensed other entities… nearing.

But when ten remained, Nagato reached his objective.

Dropping the martian, he moved to stand beside Superboy's still-angered form, ignoring his restrained bristling whilst taking in the many objects displayed upon the all-wood room's shelves.

"Really," scoffed the shinobi with a light head-shake, turning to the hateful glare of Superboy's. "The things your villains care about, I swear."

"Ah," he began again, eyes widening with recollection, "that reminds me. How far would you say the Zeta Tubes are?"

"Does it matter?" seethed out Superboy in an almost-shout.

Further up went Nagato's brow, just a tad, a light, "oh?" escaping his lips. When the cracks of separation began upon his skull's top, indentations forming whilst Superboy's eyes went wider, though nothing more was allowed than the orbs' upward rotations. The pieces came apart further, revealing a metallic dome within his head; a number of spherical indentations lie within it, the center-most being the largest with others ringing around.

Chakra began to collect within the dome's depths, collecting into a violently revolving mass. Soon, it was glowing from all holes, Nagato knocking Superboy's impaled form and a small portion of all in the direction back with a hand's slow raising. Another hand raised, though, further in its lift; in the Martian' direction it went, her floating form shooting forth to him into a firm grip at the neck.

The clones were timely in their taking his sides.

The rods just began their deterioration before the energy burst outward around Nagato, blowing everything around them up into a bright white light; both clones grasped around their creator's shoulders for support right when the blast came, shaking the ground harshly, constantly. Superboy was long consumed, the energy overtaking his form entirely in its vast coverage, so to the unconscious Martian he looked instead.

As the chakra bomb persisted in its explosion from over-compression and sheer mass, their surroundings going into a mixture of white and blue, a pair of eyes began to open amidst the destruction. Three pair of Rinnegan looked back upon her bleak consciousness, green eyes widening a measure with one look to her surroundings before giving out once more.

Whilst the glow lessened, the air singed to a calm, ground calming a measure. Black, heated clouds within darkness soon surrounded them.

Head closing, the clones removed themselves from his person, stepping out into the clouds. Letting go of the heroine's throat, he maintained the arm's extension whilst he lowered her into a backward descent to the ground.

Dropping to a kneel, the young shinobi ceased usage of all but **Ningendo**. Though he was in a sweat, dripping a measure. Catching his breath, Nagato closed his eyes, just simply breathing. Until he was fine enough, though still feeling the effects of such an exertion upon his younger body.

Eyes narrowing in their closed sockets, Nagato brought up a seal, sensing outward for the would-be back-up. When he picked them up, only a moment was spared to ensure their stagnation.

Ceasing the effort, his hand dropped to the side. Taking a deep breath, the redhead stood, turning and walking in the opposite direction as the group of heroes. Neither clone moved from their position, remaining with Miss Martian.

Along burnt ground Nagato went, it barely visible with the amount of dark debris blowing about everywhere. But the mountain was now vastly hollow, he knew.

He just had to reach the rock's edge and break out. Hopefully the clones would be taken as the bait they were. If anyone were to come on time. Faster Nagato went, covering large amounts of charred, flat ground. Eventually, his efforts bore fruitful, raising a seal whilst doing so.

Earth audibly shifted, rock's separation creating a sizable rumble; but soon light from a rising sun shone through, Nagato ceasing his efforts. Towards the gap he sped, jumping out into a low drop-off. The vast ocean became of immediate notice, the shinobi eying it whilst sliding down the mountain's rocky edge.

He assumed that just about half of the base was destroyed. Maybe just, considering the size, Nagato looking to it a moment. Forestry came, him speeding past its low down-drop.

Through trees and large rocks the redhead went, taking the longer route to avoid the beach. Ocean water was upon him soon enough, though. Loud, large splashes ensued whilst he went over the blue mass, starting his speed-up.

Sensing something behind him, he looked to the mountain as his feet sped over water, **Tendo** coming into light usage. His eyes narrowed a moment, a burst of high chakra forming. Two ends of the mountain, perpendicular of one another, shattered outward, one end melting away with intense fire as wind plowed its way through the other.

Looking away from the decoys, Nagato focused his movements. The water began to follow his soles' lifts and falls, waves forming in his passage whilst the water's form jettisoned him forward at great speed.

* * *

"I believe all was to your asking," stated Nagato, standing within an all-metal room. One monitor was lowered, it being the sole source of light.

A base of The Light's he'd been teleported to by Klarion upon arrival to that forest.

"Yes, it would seem so," responded Savage, Klarion to his side with a grin that twisted with all the sinister glee possible and more.

To the other presence in the room, though, the shinobi looked. An odd looking dark fellow, skin white and having what looked like an ethereal skull.

"Which brings us to the final step of assurance."

The being began to walk toward him, hands in the pockets of a trench coat. The fellow's expression was smug, brows drawn downward in a dark grin.

"This is Psimon." introduced Savage.

"A telepath," Nagato assumed, seeing one side of the grin pull up.

"Well well, a perceptive child, I see," came Psimon's approving confirmation.

Turning from the mind reader, Nagato looked to Savage with dull eyes. "I expect substantial monetary compensation, Vandal."

"Following Psimon's analysis."

The half-lidded Rinnegan went back to the telepathic villain. Blinking, the room went dark, screen deactivating. Miniscule was The Third's effort, a shadow of his capacity rushing their, to them, before the darkness was accompanied by a floating sensation.

Psimon's smug countenance was no longer visible within the depths, a light pressure taking effect on his skull. The feeling was far calmer than the martian's attempted intrusion, the darkness beginning to move around him. Round and round it went, picking up, a dizziness forming that had his eyes closing.

"Now," began the smooth, almost consoling voice of Psimon, "let's first take a look at your _mission_." By the end, it was clear that this fellow was taking personal interest.

'Well acquainted?' ventured Nagato in light curiosity, feeling a whirling sensation around him. Whatever him was at the current.

"Too well," ground out Psimon's voice.

He felt the blow…

Opening them, a wild array of colors came into view from a far off skyward view. Twisting and rushing into creation, rinnegan taking in it all, moving in all directions for short bursts. Bursts that fell on Psimon's smaller form.

Upon a dark cylinder of energy stood the villain, crossed arms upon his dark button-up shirt. He was grinning up at his eyes. And eyes only, Nagato knew. Felt. Saw.

"You certainly get a good look around," noted Psimon, his comment passing by whilst the land below revealed Nagato's previous run around the mountain. "Never saw it coming, I'm betting," he commented with a sadistic smirk.

The rinnegan shifted side-ward in their sizable gaze from the skyward darkness. When his smaller form upon the memory scape begun further reconnaissance, a white hand lifted, smirk still in place whilst the man brought his gaze downward with a swipe. With time's swift passage came his methods. With them, a malevolent, ringed focus.

"Well, I'm getting a good feeling," remarked Psimon with dark curiosity, leaning over his jagged, black disc, "Nagato."

' _Could you by chance make haste in your intrusion?_ ' tone echoing with politeness. ' _You're slowing my 'walk,_ '' ending with displeasure.

For even if the transgression on his person were permitted, it was far from appreciated.

The look of annoyance he wished to see came. Which, he felt, was only fair.

The martian's scream came, though, Psimon's attention going back down with almost glee-full interest. Rinnegan, again, shifted in wonder.


	5. Chapter 5

Darkness bled into the surroundings once more, Psimon's smiling form fading out. Another soon came to creation, silhouette broad and tall. His own person, too, began to come into existence, rinnegan gaining a body.

Before one another they stood, Nagato looking up into hard browns, a savage grin splitting the leader's face in his downward regard for him.

"You were accompanying."

"Indeed," returned Vandal. "An interesting world you come from, Nagato. Though intriguing as it is, I'm not in the business of conquering alternate realities."

"How unfortunate," responded Nagato, a wry tilt to his lips.

"Be that as it may," continued Savage, "I believe our causes align well."

"That being so," turning toward the endless darkness, Nagato mirroring the action, "it is time we become fully acquainted."

Before the two entities formed a sphere, colors bleeding into Earth's features. Stars blinked into existence, countless dots of light littering the sea of darkness. "Like you," started Savage, "I am older than I appear." Halt did the planet's revolve, doing so in reverse, gaining a remarkable amount of speed. With time's apparent rewind came the shifting of continents, oceans changing alongside land.

Far away lights faded, others seeming to reform in other locations of outterspace's blanket, time's regression intensifying further. Until a sudden halt came, natural progression resuming.

"Fifty thousand years ago," spoke the man, voice rumbling in its coldness, "the world was a distinctly different place. As I'm sure you're gathering." The world seemed to descend upon them, speeding by darkness going into an array of colors on their surroundings for but a few seconds.

The land was bare. Untouched. Human-like entities were in the distance, walking upon bare dirt-land, rocky surfaces and rock formations being other recurrences.

"As was life at the time," continued Savage, them watching an unmarred replica of him in mere animal-leather walking amongst a group, "I was but a simple-minded brute. Survival the sole driving force."

The scene darkened with a bear's resounding roar. Paniced noise ensued, blurry forms of people scattering. Sounds of flesh being torn asunder ensued, blackness ebbing further into the duo's surroundings. The animal got louder, clearer, its approach audible. One more cut through flesh passed before a snap of bone, the beast's heavy breaths no more. And by then, they were encased in pitch black.

Soon, though, a night sky came into view. The stars were racing across it. The ground faded into creation before them, Savage showing once more with another group. Three scars marred his face whilst watching the sky in awe with everyone else.

"But one night, a shower of fire littered the skies. Meteors. My primitive mind perceived them as falling stars," Nagato noting a measure of nostalgia in his tone. "One of the meteors, however," started Savage again, lips curling a measure, "did just so." One fire encompassed mass flew by the group from the unknown darkness. Its impact was explosive, flames bursting upward. Brief, though, was the enlightenment, clouds of smoke soon all that remained whilst a gust of wind blew outward.

"My compatriots fled," the surrounding area calming, a yellow glow emitting from the crater, "but I approached." The primitive version of Savage made for the impact, slow and cautionary at first, eyes wide with a fearful wonder. His fear dissipated with the distance's closure, curiosity forming in brown eyes, a hand reaching.

"But the vibrant stone was warm – respite from the coldness of night." A large hand made contact, his lips turning up in comfort.

Vandal proceeded to lay near it, the current continuing with, "I slept aside the meteor that night, basking in the emitting radiations." True to his word, the memory confirmed such. Beside it he lay, sleeping through a rapidly passing night.

The redhead watched with a dull focus upon the happenings, eyes narrowing a measure when daybreak came. The stone lost its glow, Vandal before it. His awakening was a frightful one. Seemingly uncomprehending, it seemed, of his own ascension. Fearful, hands coming upon a marred face.

But realization formed. Browns hardened, a savage no more before narrowed eyes, clearly aware of the god that he was. Fellow god. "Realization was immediate. The radiations mutated me, vastly increasing my intelligence," The limbs lowered, a familiar scowl revealed before the now-dull stone.

Ascension.

Blackness bled into the scenery once more, flashing alight again to show a series of memories. Vibrant, violent memories. Recallings of war. "And overtime," battles between groups, each one varying more and more with times passage in feature, race, attire, weaponry, "I became aware of another gift.."

"You are an immortal," stated Nagato.

Confirmation.

A twist came to Savage's lips, eyes glinting it seemed, upon their watch of his enemies fruitless attempts of slaying him.

"To my knowledge," agreed Vandal, one corner pulling in satisfaction.

"How… contrasting," thought Nagato aloud, thinking on the Ninja way of life. To live your days as if they'd end the next. Those with the occupation simply didn't possess the luxury of time. You either died young or watched those around you go into the ground. Usually both.

Mostly both.

Brows scrunching a measure, Nagato took in the conquering Vandal of one passing memory of archaic warfare. A recurring theme.

"You're fond of warfare," remarked Nagato, Savage's expression only curling a measure further.

"Not warfare," began Vandal, the current battle drowning out into the screams and yells of battling, dying men, " _conquering."_ The noise came to a steady low, drowning out into peace, Savage's men the last remaining on the battlefield. Again, time sped, blackness encompassing before colors blew out again to form yet another scene.

"Over the ages, I have conquered many a land, people, and ideal. All fell before the might of my leadership, either through death or enslavement. And prosper, did my people."

Savage turned toward him amidst one warring recollection, remarking with, "just as your people did."

Nagato's brows scrunched in consideration, different settlements showing. All varying in people, culture, land, and buildings themselves. Each one's passage ending with their leader's departure, a cloaked figure making through bustling crowds of different ages.

"I take it your time is encroaching once more," surmised the ninja, merely awaiting.

"Indeed," agreed Savage, brown's glinting before the showing of a now-burning, war-torn city, "it is."

"But more importantly," he stated, the setting beginning to distance itself from them, view retreating to the sky. Further still they receded, until darkness once more surrounded them, the planet and its star's peaking glow the only things contesting its blackness.

"The dawn of a new age," spoke both before the astronomical sight, one of murmured realization and another of cold confidence.

Red brows drew together for a moment, seeing the scenery pull back further to show the vastness of space. A completely unknown realm to the redhead, rinnegan watching in a more curious manner. He felt Savage's amused guise on him. At his confusion.

The planet's form was never out of focus, remaining as the focal point within the map of the galaxy.

' _How?_ ' he found himself wondering, a measure incredulously. The enemies were far more numerous in this world. Stronger. They worked in unison, weren't split apart, as were the Elemental Nations. And that original problem – the currently existing nations, _governments_ – was ever-present, even that one parallel between their worlds furthered. This Earth bore a far higher populace to conquer than ever before in its history, than even the ninja's own.

"Your namesake," spoke Savage resolutely toward Nagato's doubts.

Savage's countenance changed not the slightest, scenery shifting into a series of the shinobi's memories. Burning villages, exploding areas, the countless dying in Konoha's destruction. But instead of Nagato's demise before the enemy due to exhaustion, came to follow the tens of millions dying within those forbidden jutsu the ninja sought to create. Many a population were decimated, one after another. But it kept going, never-ending, it seemed.

And his home-world took on the appearance of the current, broken cities lying in ruins of modern design. Some were notably distinct: Gotham, Metropolis, Star City. Even the Amazon's Island lay in ruins at one point within the changing apocalyptic settings.

"Through pain, peace can be achieved," agreed Vandal, scenery returning to one of many peoples led by the immortal.

"But the evolutionary aspect," showings returning to warfare, "is undeniable." The weapons changed. Archaic means went by, those "guns" coming into play, their early stages going by. Advancements in other fields came, vehicular means progressing side-by-side the soldiers' arms. Technology's advancement. Bombings of immense proportions followed, eventually, rinnegan calm in their watch. Dully they watched peace follow in the happenings of worldly conflicts. Smaller ones remained, as expected.

It was simply human nature. Man was a violent creature, the word, "Belligerent" leaving Vandal's lips in affirmation, "and once again requiring… enlightenment."

Heroes came to fruition upon the scape, Savage's eyes narrowing in response. Slight was his smirk, one side pulling up. Even when the Justice League themselves manifested in their heroics, his look persisted, Savage seeming almost triumphant in his regard for them.

Nagato's lips curled then, slight in their upturn. Ringed eyes narrowed cruelly, seeing just how well their objectives aligned.

"The cause is of little concern," spoke Nagato, "reasons an afterthought," murmuring that last fact.

"May Pain's passage enlighten," the words echoing whilst the scenery almost ebbed into the revolving form of Earth, sun shining its rays from behind. Bask in the partial rays did they, titans taking in their ambition.

The Gods of Change.

* * *

Eyes opening, Savage and Klarion's presences within the now-lit metal room were revealed before him. Psimon stood to their side, Nagato's rinnegan narrowing at the pale telepath in annoyance. A throb was going through his head, Nagato knowing it to be this _ant's_ doing.

The recollections were far too rapid, only having slowed once his more cruel nature set into place. He could guess of who's interest it was. Or possible dual interest, having met the telepath's own sadistic person. Psimon was a snidely sarcastic one, clearly of little interest in the dabbling of his family's death. But Yahiko's brought a steady slow to his life's proceeding tale.

They watched many die at a time, ninja cut down like flies, bodies upon bodies falling to the wet, decrepit land. Thereafter, the journey through his mind was far more lax.

Trainings went by, as did Nagato's missions, a new Akatsuki in need with the old's realized complete annihilation. A new goal was taken up, somewhat genocidal in nature, though in the name of temporary peace. A peace that was very nearly accomplished.

Nagato's eyes narrowed at Psimon's, the telepath's widening just slightly with a pacifying grin, hands raising. "Ah ah ah, I just did as you asked, _Pain_."

Psimon had the decency to look a measure disconcerted when ringed orbs looked upon his see-through skull, gray-purple eyes widening slightly in their focus.

"Leave us," spoke Vandal toward Psimon, the order breaking the two's just-meeting gazes.

Before Savage, though, the villain almost cowered. Leave did the little ant, narrowed rinnegan trailing his form. Klarion and his cat's did too, the boy petting his orange feline. Amusement was laced within the god's grin.

Following Psimon's departure, Nagato's demeanor calmed, returning his gaze to Savage's frown. Klarion's arms rose to his front, hands clapping loudly, voicing gleefully, "You're hired!"

Grinning maliciously, a few more congratulatory claps sounded. Lowering one arm, Klarion kept one stretched to his front, palm faced down. His long, pale fingers spread out, lightly lowered whilst dark red-black energy violently collected below his palm. The dark force took an elongated, case-like form, lightly blowing outward with a blow of flames from the dark object.

A black steel case was henceforth formed, Klarion keeping it afloat below his hand. He chuckled lowly, the hand motioning in Nagato's direction.

"For a painfully well done done job," quipped the God of Destruction in jest. The case floated over toward their new enforcer, Klarion speaking slow and condescending, "Now they'll have to start all over."

Klarion's dark, low-growled chuckle filled the room, a light red hue forming on both god and feline alike.

Grasping the handle, Nagato was gifted to Vandal's politely firm, "Welcome to The Light." Cruel consideration nearly glowed in Savage's browns' regard for the shinobi.

Nagato's lips quirked up the moment the case was let go of by Klarion's magic, the full weight of money revealed. ' _From penniless to bountiful wealth._ ' All within less than a day. With but a single mission.

Kakuzu would be proud.

Opening the case before his own eyes, many green bills of sizable amount came into view. Sizable in both value and count, all of the money stacked neatly. Organized in numbers.

' _Or envious_ ,' considered Nagato, eying the bills for a moment before closing the container. Lowering it in a one-handed grasp, the redhead looked to Savage.

"I trust you're satisfied."

"It shall suffice," agreed Nagato in kind, nodding lightly.

"Before we progress any further," started Savage, "know that although we are aligned, there will be no exceptions in your position within this organization. Though your skill is admirable," Klarion's grin widening in vast agreement, "your experience with our world is severely lacking."

"Fair enough," replied Nagato with a light shrug, uncaring for such petty matters.

Vandal reached within his coat, tossing a small gray form toward him that he caught in his free hand. Whilst Nagato brought it before his eyes, the leader spoke: "Contact will be made within three days; you are to be within the borders of Coast City by then."

"As you say," murmured the ninja, taking in the obvious ear-piece's features. On the opposite end of the speaker lie three small buttons, aligned vertically. The center-most was round, the upper and lower shaped like blunt arrows that partially wrapped around the center one.

Pocketing the device, Nagato looked back to Savage.

Savage nodded toward him, then, eyes lowering toward Nagato's sides. Browns going back to his ringed focus, he voiced, "I would suggest the employment of gloves in our world." Lips curved down upon Pain's pensive regard.

Savage's mildly amused maw relaxed back into its natural frown. "Dismissed."

Klarion's hand raised after the cold order, fingers snapping; one red energy mass expanded to completion above the duo, jaggedly ovular in shape. Upon its swift descent, the room darkened, Nagato alone within it.

The door of Psimon's previous exit abruptly opened, earning Nagato's calm attention. Blinking, he took in the light bleeding into the room for a moment. Turning toward the exit, he made his way over.

Stopping at the doorway, he looked within the brightly lit room. Matching metal walls of a wide chamber adorned three of its sides. The one before him was rock, though, only its middle-most portion containing a metallic set of doors. The ceiling was of the same material as his facing wall, Nagato looking at the rocky surface for a moment. He looked to the right, viewing a couple stone benches. Between the two seats lie a sort of paper-stand, its material matching the gray seats'. Facing back to the one metal portion of the rock-wall, Nagato looked up and down the thick metal doors. A switch lie to the right of them, a mere few inches away from the center-lying exit.

' _Door or elevator,_ ' mused the shinobi, walking toward one of the benches of gray stone. Past the seat he went, coming upon the news-stand. He grasped a single bundle of information.

Sitting himself comfortably on the bench and placing the case of money aside himself, Nagato took a look at the area for which the paper was for.

It puzzled him, eyes narrowing into a furrowed consideration.

Happy Harbor.

Right in the center, taking up a sizable portion was a familiar scene: His clones' "distraction." A snap-shot of the mountain, fire and violent wind smashing through one Mt. Justice.

It was swiftly apparent that people in the nearby city had felt a few... jutsu.

No one was hurt in the incident, apparently, that being his sole purpose of skimming the words of the front-page article. Prior to that, the page was flipped, as he'd been present for the whole ordeal. Then once more. And yet again.

The same subject matter showed nearly throughout. Though something of note did catch his eye, eventually.

The piece was not focused on him. No, this article, lying within page twenty, was primarily focused on the _Justice League_. Upon the overused picture of the mountain being blown out by wind and flames alike lied six circular symbols.

Crests. Each one a representation of a founding member.

Written across their horizontal alignment were the words " **BOLD FACED LIARS?** "

How could he resist?

The "word of the spacemen" was that the attack had been on a base of no use. An enclosure bearing no personnel. Empty. Telling of the heroes' knowledge that their enemies knew of the base. Superman's words, according to this Gordon fellow. Reporter.

The man proceeded to harp on about the bare minimum words given by the Man of Steel in regard to the incident. And then the reporter moved on to question why there would possibly be such an attack – as if the man had the slightest idea of the happenings – on an _empty_ base.

A swift segue into questioning what the League was hiding followed. "Hiding from the people." Of the people's right to the truth from the "Just-Us League."

Nagato's lips quirked in amusement.

But the article did not end there. No, the incident of the morn was only of half relevance. Previous supposed misdoings of the heroes bore mention, the redhead's eyes widening a measure in amazement. A few, Nagato knew of, referencing his own brief yet informative touch on current events. Red brows drew together slightly, eyes calming before the blatant disregard of many details. Mentioned only for the briefest moment were the good aspects to each event, the focal point always on mere side effects. A cough taken for death itself.

Mention of Nagato himself was ever-gone. He was merely mentioned in passing. For about half of a paragraph, in which Gordon's query of whom the perpetrator(s) were had transformed into a seemingly far more important one: "What is the League doing? Hiding?"

By the end of the relatively informative article – fortunately not of large size – Nagato did agree with one thing.

He'd not go in so recklessly ignorant. Superman's word was faulty in that regard. However, this was a trait not overtly known. Nagato was unknown. Pain was unknown.

Having his fill for reading, Nagato neatly refolded the newspaper before him. Grasping one end, he wound the arm to his right, letting go of it. The paper floated, arm returning to his side whilst it drifted gently back onto the other papers within the stack. When it was flatly re-placed, one pale hand lie atop the other on Nagato's lap.

Lightly slouched in his seat, the shinobi awaited the approaching person's arrival.

' _Elevator,_ ' noted Nagato, feeling the one's descent within the earth.

The doors opened but a few seconds after the person's alignment with the room. Within was a man of tall stature, lean in physique. A hockey mask adorned his face, hard browns looking to his ringed gray-purple.

"Sportsmaster," greeted the redhead toward the walking-in blonde, sliding metal sounding from the criminal's worn metal shoulder-piece. The man matched Flash's description perfectly.

"I know you?" replied the blue-clad villain with cold rudeness. His voice was largely gravelly, deep.

"I am Pain; it is an honor to make your acquaintance." Nagato leaned forward with mild interest, Sportsmaster continuing in his walk.

"Never heard of ya, punk," replied the blonde, uncaring.

Nagato's hands went to his knees with a small sigh, Sportsmaster going for the door.

With a rush through air, Nagato was standing before the human and his destination. His person of interest halted immediately, Sportsmaster's hand reaching to his belt whilst Nagato voiced, "Forgive me, Sportsmaster, but I wish to take but a moment of your time."

Opening a pouch on his belt, those brown eyes narrowed down at him. "How do I know your _worth_ my time, kid?"

"Name your price," offered Nagato smoothly, meeting the man's gaze dully.

"Name your game," returned Sportsmaster.

"Resources, so to speak," spoke the redhead, passively lifting a bare hand from within a black sleeve. "Gloves, if you will. Military-grade."

"Half your payment," offered Spotsmaster in a ligther tone, eyes shifting to the shinobi's suitcase for but a moment as the man withdrew use of whatever was within his belt.

"With the case," continued the criminal, right as Nagato's mouth began to part for a response.

"That's fine," spoke Nagato to Sportsmaster with dull impatience. The case's clips opened with **Tendō's** light usage, the container opening from the seams. The nicely stacked placement of the payment was maintained within the suit-case, Nagato's portion simply flowing out in a neat stack. The withdrawal complete, the ninja closed the case once more, his portion floating beside himself.

Tossing the case toward Sportsmaster, his greedy helper's eyes returned to their cold regard, handle grasped neatly. The amount was of interest apparently, Nagato having seen brown eyes' fixation on the original stack, however brief. Perhaps multi-billion paydays weren't a casual occurrence.

The man chuckled at him, voicing, "You're too kind. Your name betrays you, Pain." Nagato merely walked back to the bench alongside his cut. Sitting upon the bench, he directed the money alongside himself on it. Leaning back, the shinobi shifted in his seat to regard Sportsmaster.

"I've payed your game's fee: _perform_."

" _Penguin_ ," growled out Sportsmaster, apparently containing some measure of honor, "Thorne, Two-Face, Joker," by this point the man's voice clearly devolving into cold amusement. The smirk was audible.

Raising a hand, Nagato halted the man's speech. "That's quite fine." Lowering the hand back down, he reminded, "A mere moment, Sportsmaster."

"I thank you for it nonetheless, though," nodded the shinobi politely. Lowering his head, Nagato's nose went under the coverage of his high-collar, eyes closing. His feet moved to face forward, one lifting to cross over the opposite's lower thigh.

The redhead heard the blonde 'tch" under his breath with a snide muttering of his name. Nagato's lips only turned up, though, when the older man proceeded to call him a punk under his breath.

Slipping his arms out of their sleeves and into his cloak, Nagato lay them flat against his front. The door to the other room opened, Sportsmaster entering and closing it behind himself. Slowly, Nagato lifted a hand, forming a hand-seal underneath his cloak.

Outward the redhead sensed, looking for that _ant_. Further and further he spread his senses, searching.

No trace of him was felt. Psimon was gone. Or, at the very least, not in the general area.

Nagato ceased the usage of _them_ , mind-seals coming to a final end. He exhaled a measure too prominently, though, composing himself thereafter. Controlled intakes passed, his releases calm and getting calmer.

Dropping the hand-seal, Nagato slipped his arms back into their sleeves. He brought them onto his lap again, one hand over the other.

' _That went well,_ ' he thought with mild amusement, eyes calmly closing.

Success in fooling the telepath had been largely theoretical, as with many of his previous courses of action. Whether the seals would actually pass by Psimon undetected, he'd no real way of knowing. Acting with such reckless abandon was outside his norm, but the way he saw it, discovery of his actual intentions would simply mean slaying them sooner than later.

That, and there were a few abilities that he would not have them knowing of. There were many altered memories in his so-called recollections that Psimon perused. Konoha's destruction in particular was largely censored, the shinobi having no intention of letting Vandal know just how destructively capable he would grow to be. Other minor misconceptions were fed, memories altered to hide his true potential, the Human Path's extent of power being one of them.

 **Jigokudō's** method of garnering intelligence was one thing, but **Ningendō's** was another.

However, his want to end them where they stood was the hardest to conceal. Instead he'd focused the malevolent feeling on the heroes' persons within his recollections while considering those of ill-repute as allies. Soon-to-be brothers-in-arms. Just as he'd considered the members of Akatsuki. His fellow criminals.

' _Though p_ _erhaps this is for the best,_ ' he inwardly sighed, eyes opening. Toward his hands he looked, taking in their younger forms. He resisted frowning, keeping his lips in a thin line.

There were a few other " _theories_ " he was curious to test on Savage himself, but at his current level, success was widely dubious. Particularly since the fifty-thousand year old immortal seemed to always have that God of Chaos with him. Savage he had a few ideas on how to possibly kill, but Klarion was an entirely different matter. Klarion wasn't just immortal: He was an actual god.

' _Conjecture,_ ' began the ninja with distaste, ' _I've nothing but conjecture._ '

Furthermore, his immortal-killing attempts were non-existent. He'd not a single foray into the endeavor.

' _I knew I should have killed Hidan..._ '

The immortal fanatic was always his least favorite member, lacking any form of decency. However, with Kakuzu's penchant for killing all of his past partners, there was, unfortunately, little else choice in the matter. That, and the fanatic had been Madara's choice.

So Hidan stayed.

Still, Nagato had always been fairly sure he could have done the deed. Had always been prepared to try the very moment another immortal was happened upon.

' _At least then I'd have something to go off of,_ ' thought the ninja with a mild sigh, exhaling gently from his nostrils. The leaving air softly blew at his cloak's high-collar.

' _No matter_ _,_ ' dismissed Nagato with indifference, ' _I'll have ample time to learn of them and more._ '

Klarion's presence made it a clear probability of the existence of other high ranking members. Savage and the "boy" seemed to be at the top of the hierarchy, and Nagato had every intention of learning whom _all_ the others were. From top to bottom.

' _It's merely a matter of time,_ ' thought Nagato darkly, moving to stand, ' _and I've nothing else in this world._ ' There was no marring slash upon his forehead protector, and they'd one day learn of the hidden significance. Dearly.

Looking to his stack of money, Nagato once again lifted it with **Tendō**. Reaching within his cloak, he grabbed a scroll, pulling it out. Holding it to his front, he proceeded roll it in his hand, steadily unraveling it.

Intricate symbols were revealed, many kanji written on either side of the lengthy unrolled portion. The paper reached down to the floor, a circular complex symbol etched into the center. Winding arrows pointed to the symbol's center, and it was there that Nagato floated the stack of money to reside against.

The ninja lifted a one-handed hand-seal, muttering, "Seal."

The money _poofed_ into a brief cloud of billowing smoke. Following its dissipation, Nagato began to roll the scroll up.

Placing it within his cloak again, he made his way toward the elevator, intent on beginning his journey to Gotham City.


End file.
